


we are the last people standing at the end of the night

by likelightninginabottle



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (Obviously), But We're the Losers in the Backseat Singing 'Love Will Tear Us Apart', Enemies with Benefits to Friends to Idiots to Lovers, In The Middle of The Street After The War, It's a Quarter Past Midnight and the Sirens Are Mending Some Hearts, M/M, Or Mutually Antagonistic Reluctant Allies to More, Post-Canon, The Constantly Compromised Structural Integrity of Theo's Truck, The Razor Thin Line Between Mind-Melting Lust and Mutual Antagonism, This Can't Happen Again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29306760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likelightninginabottle/pseuds/likelightninginabottle
Summary: Liam shouldn't have to fight for his life just to get through senior year, but he did. Theo shouldn't smell like safety -- shouldn't inspire an almostPavloviankind of reaction of purerelief, a sheer, unquestionable,oh, thank god-- but hedoes.Theo driving them in the truck at night -- covered in bruises and blood and dirt andgodknows what else. Liam watching him from the other end. It shouldn't feel familiar, but itis.Liam shouldn't turn to the other side of the truck and do what he thinks he needs to do, but hewill.This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.
Relationships: Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken
Comments: 13
Kudos: 73





	we are the last people standing at the end of the night

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by many many things. Bastille's "Quarter Past Midnight". the plot device "and then theo gets railed :)". the romanticism of the hours between dusk and dawn, and all the trouble you can get into during that time. a frankenstein-esque mish-mash of richard siken quotes
> 
> I find it hilarious that this is another immediately post-canon fic, but here y'all go :D
> 
> hope you enjoy!!

Theo drives him home -- drives them _all_ home, really, even though it feels like a weird invasion of their privacy. Liam can't recall there ever being someone _else_ in the truck with them before; it was usually just the two of them, exchanging plans and worries and biting insults under the cover of night. And now, Mason, Corey, and Nolan are shoved into the backseat, half-asleep, all but piled on top of each other.

Liam never thought telling each other to go to hell from opposite sides of a truck could ever be considered _intimate_ , but here they are. It feels like there are strangers in his home, which is, perhaps, the most _jarring_ analogy he could've possibly made— such an uncomfortable conclusion to draw that it makes him avoid his own reflection in the side mirror.

Liam feels too dialed up, fight still burning in his veins, skin stretched too tight over his bones, hot and itchy. His claws are still out and he can't quite figure out how to put them away, and the constant, monotonous dark road does nothing to help. There's nothing else to focus on, just the constantly grating silence. He feels like he's going to _explode_ , like all the fear and fight and _anger_ that have been building up for the last month or two are going to make him _burst_ , and the aftermath is going to wreck everything and everyone in his damage radius.

Liam's staring, and he _knows_ he's staring, but looking at everything else just seems to make his blood _roil_ , so he turns to Theo instead. Absently catalogues the dirt on the line of his jaw and the blood staining his jeans. The beanie tucked into his front pocket. The circles under his eyes. Everything outside the truck is dark and greyscale and he's the only thing worth looking at.

Theo doesn't say anything, and Liam has never _wished_ he would just open his snarky fucking mouth and start a goddamn _fight_ before, but it's all he's hoping for right now. He wants -- _needs_ to do _something_ with all the pressure building up inside, before something awful happens, _needs_ to feel Theo's skin bruising under his hands, his claws in Liam's arm and his fangs in Liam's shoulder, needs to fucking _roar_ and just let it all out.

Liam is the last one to be dropped off, and Theo rolls to stop right in front of his house. His parents are still out of town for the night, on the spontaneous trip that Liam all but forced them on, and most of their neighbors have either left town, or are at somewhere around, getting arrested for assault and battery and domestic terrorism and unlawful weapons possession and _god_ knows what else.

Liam probably shouldn't turn to the other side of the truck and do what he thinks he needs to do. Theo helped them, he doesn't deserve to have his nose broken right now, no matter how _desperately_ Liam wishes he did, if only to get some of the adrenaline out of his blood.

"If you clawed through the seats, _you're_ paying to have them reupholstered," Theo says, not even _looking_ at Liam, and for some reason that Liam can't quite put his finger on, it makes him _furious_ that Theo can look away so easily, so nonchalantly, calm like Liam's not about to break his fucking face. Liam looked away first in the elevator, because it was too much, too much, too _much_ , but now, it's like he's _starving_ , and he can't get enough. He can't look away, and Theo is busy staring at the stretch of nothing, illuminated by the headlights of the truck.

He wonders if he'll ever see Theo again, or if Theo's going to be on the road out of town as soon as Liam steps out of the truck. He wonders if he'll care either way **—** if it'll be a relief not seeing him so often, a living reminder of all the ways Liam has fucked up; the things Theo has talked him _into_ doing and the things Theo has talked him _out_ of doing and the ways he has messed up over and over again in ways that Scott never would.

He comes to an alarming conclusion that it _wouldn't,_ in fact, be a relief. Theo makes him want to tear his own hair out, and Liam has yet to find something more satisfying than breaking his nose, but the thought of never watching him scrub a hand across his jaw, hear the rasp of his stubble, never having his body _wrenched_ back, pulled from danger and into safety, never hearing the _infuriating_ , consistently _knowing_ tone in his voice, makes Liam faintly nauseous.

Liam shouldn't turn to the other side of the truck and do what he thinks he needs to do, but he also shouldn't be a teenager fighting in a war. He shouldn't have been turned into a monster when he was just trying to get through high school and his whole town shouldn't have tried and killed them.

Countless others, one by one, like rocks skipping in a lake. Shouldn't, shouldn't, shouldn't, before it _sinks_ down into the water with a defeated kind of finality. _Did._

Liam shouldn't have to fight for his life just to get through senior year, but he did. Theo shouldn't smell like safety -- shouldn't inspire an almost _Pavlovian_ kind of reaction of pure _relief_ , a sheer, unquestionable, _oh, thank god_ \-- but he _does._ Theo driving them in the truck at night -- covered in bruises and blood and dirt and _god_ knows what else. Liam watching him from the other end. It shouldn't feel familiar, but it _is._

Liam shouldn't turn to the other side of the truck and do what he thinks he needs to do, but he _will_.

This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.

Except when you've just escaped death by the skin of your teeth and you still feel vaguely intoxicated, high on the taste of your own blood in your mouth, and you're in the car with a beautiful boy and you fucking _hate_ him, except you don't, because you owe him your life and he owes you _his_ , and somehow, you don't owe each other anything at all, but there's something between what he says and what he does that you can't quite puzzle out and it makes you angrier than you've ever been before, and someone's pulling a gun and you're jumping into the middle of it and Theodore's bleeding into the upholstery, and your holding onto your humanity by the tips of your bloodstained claws, hungry and hollow and desperate and terrified and _furious._

And Liam shoots his hand out, claws tearing and tangling into Theo's collar, and they're both braced, they know how this ends -- with ugly words that mean exactly nothing and a fist to the face -- and yet, Liam surprises _both_ of them, when he slams their mouths together instead.

\---

Liam fucks Theo right then and there, up against the truck.

It probably would've been easier -- more comfortable, more _private_ \-- if they had crawled into the backseat like _normal_ people, but Liam can't bring himself to spare any thoughts for literally _anything_ , not when Theo's thighs are wrapped _tight_ around his waist, head tipped back, the noises that Theo won't let escape tangling up in his throat, back _thunking_ against the truck with every hard thrust, Liam claws digging into his hips as he fucks into him as hard as he can, feeling the sweat roll down the back of his neck.

He feels Theo clawing at his back, so harsh and unrestrained that Liam feels the _gouges_ he leaves behind as he arches his back and he fucks himself back onto Liam's cock, biting down so _hard_ on his lower lip, that Liam thinks his teeth might go straight through. Liam's fangs are already out, too long to do the same, and so all he can do to smother his loud groans is latch onto Theo's skin -- biting at his collarbone, his shoulder, sinking his teeth into the flesh of his pectoral.

And it started so _fast_ , so _feral,_ it was Liam's tongue down Theo's throat and Theo's hand in Liam's hair, tugging so hard that it _hurt_ , and Theo shoving Liam up against the door, and Liam twisting them back around and _pinning him_ , and Theo's half-breathy, " _There’s lube in the truck,"_ and Liam's eyes flared helplessly, and from there, no more thoughts were had: kissing and biting and clawing each other’s clothes off, and Liam couldn't put his claws away long enough to slick him up, no matter how much he _wanted_ to, so he settled for biting at the thick cords of muscle on the inside of Theo's thighs while Theo pushed two fingers into himself, twisting and scissoring, ruthlessly efficient, legs spread _obscenely_ and propped up against the dashboard, but nowhere _near_ ready, even when he _claimed_ he was, licking at the shell of Liam's ear and hissing, "If you don't fuck me _right this second,_ I swear to _god,_ I'm gonna _claw your fucking eyes out,"_ and when Liam pushed into him, both of them going uncharacteristically speechless, panting through it, he was so fucking _tight_ that Liam felt light-headed.

“God, _Theo_ ,” he had bit out, half a moan, half a desperate plea, trying to stave off the wave of pleasure that had almost _consumed_ him, because if he let himself succumb, this would all have been over far too quickly. And he would rather gouge his own eyes out then come before Theo. “ _Christ_ ,” he couldn't help but groan, fingers spasming on Theo’s hips as he had tried to get some air into his lungs and blink the sweat out of his eyes and lick a line up Theo’s heaving chest.

And _now,_ Theo's knocking against the truck so _hard_ that Liam thinks there's no _way_ it won't leave a dent, a _mark._ The thought probably shouldn't satisfy him so much, shouldn't make his hips buck _harder_ into Theo's slick heat, but it does, and Liam can _feel_ the subvocal whines vibrating in Theo's throat, but it isn’t enough for him, it’s not what he _needs_. He's had _enough_ of the quiet.

His hand shoots up, tangling in the hair at the back of Theo's head, before Liam roughly _wrenches_ his head back, baring Theo's throat even _more_ , and Theo doesn’t resist it he just . . . Submits.

But his mouth goes slack, eyes rolling to the back of his head, and Liam presses his momentary advantage, licking into his mouth, sloppily possessive, and with the new _leverage_ , he can fuck up into Theo even _harder_ , swallow down Theo's loud whine, even as his own head is muddled, pleasure-drunk and fuzzy, because Theo's so _hot_ around him that Liam feels like he's losing his _mind_ , feels _crazy_ as he moans against Theo's tongue, as he feels Theo clench down _hard_ around him every time he fucks into him from this angle, muscles trembling with fatigue from the continued effort of holding them _both_ up, and Theo's breathing _hard_ , but he's still _infuriatingly_ quiet, because of _course_ he is, it would just _kill_ him to admit that he's _affected_ \-- to put words and a voice to the sweat glinting on his brow and the flush spreading down his chest and the way he's rolling his hips just to feel Liam's cockhead against his prostate again. Really, Liam has no choice but to pull away from his wet, pliant mouth and demand, "I want to _hear_ you," even though it comes out as more of a growled plea than anything else, and before Theo can do something contrary, like tuck his lip back in between his teeth, _Liam_ captures it, biting down _hard_ and holding Theo's mouth open as he thrusts up again, and--

" _God,"_ Theo moans, " _right—ah"_ he gasps, panting _hard_ against Liam's mouth, and Liam adjusts his one-handed grip on Theo's ass before rolling his hips so _hard_ into him that the truck creaks in protest. "Right _there, fuck, Liam,"_ and he's _loud_ , so loud that it echoes down the street, and the pure, red-hot _satisfaction_ of Liam's name spilling from Theo's bloody, bitten lips in a _scream_ is almost as pleasurable as an orgasm itself, and Liam _buries_ himself as deep inside Theo has he can _go_ , just as Theo _yells_ , thighs shaking around Liam's waist, one hand creeping down to close around his length, but Liam has the presence of mind to bat his hand away and do it _himself_ , Theo’s cock hot and heavy in his hand, leaking steadily as Liam fists it in time with his thrusts and Theo fucking _keens_ , broken moans being ripped out of his throat until suddenly, he spills hotly between them, coating Liam’s chest and his own abdomen and clamping down so hard on him that Liam almost blacks out, white-hot pleasure exploding through him, but he still has a clear enough head to actually ask, “Do you— oh, _fuck_ — can I— can I keep going?”

Theo’s still panting through it, eyes half unfocused. “ _Yes,_ ” he manages, brows furrowed like it’s a stupid question.

“Are _you sure?”_ Liam persists, forehead resting on Theo’s flushed chest, as he feels a drop of sweat roll down his nose. The night is cold, the edge of fall, but Liam doesn’t feel anything but hot enough that water would boil off of him. “Because,” he pants, “I can totally just—”

 _“Yes,_ you stupid bastard,” Theo grits out harshly, and Liam’s about to protest, but Theo’s already rolling his hips, fucking back onto Liam, abdominal muscles clenching with every grind of his body, smooth and filthy and so fucking _good_ that Liam goes half cross-eyed, and Theo says, “Inside me, I want it _inside me_ ,” breathing hard, head thrown back and Liam thinks blankly, brain leaking out of his ears, pleasure-stupid, _what?,_ stock-still as Theo rides him, blood roaring in his ears, and Theo all but _growls,_ “Fucking _come inside me,_ Liam!”

And Liam’s _gone,_ as he comes _hard,_ sinking his teeth into the meat of Theo’s shoulder to muffle his _scream_ and continuing to thrust into Theo and ride it out, Theo’s hole fluttering sweetly around him as Liam spills into him, Theo panting open-mouthed, face screwed up, eyes winched shut, and he _takes it_ so _well,_ heels digging into Liam’s back painfully, even now, welcoming each rough thrust and clenching down so beautifully around Liam — even when he’s as oversensitive as he must be right now — that Liam feels drugged, slotting their lips together as he finally slows, gripping firmly at Theo’s hips as Theo moans against his lips, curls his hot tongue against Liam’s and kisses him back fervently.

\---

If someone put a gun to Liam’s head and asked him how they got from _there_ to Liam’s front door, Liam still wouldn’t be able to tell them.

“This can’t—” Liam gasps out, just as Theo’s fingers close around his cock, “—can’t— oh _god, Theo—can’t_ happen ever again.”

"Obviously," Theo replies, and then he licks back into his mouth, hot and languid, pressing him back against the front door as his long, capable fingers start jacking him slowly, and Liam’s head _thunks_ back against the door, pleasure spreading hot and liquid through his veins as Theo mouths along his neck, his body a warm, strong weight against the cold air, and Liam has to just pant through it, trying not to let his knees buckle.

Theo pulls back, puts his lips to Liam's ear.

"Do you want me to stop," he whispers, voice gutter-low, breath ghosting across the shell of his ear, and Liam's breath catches in his throat as he fucks up into the tight circle of his fist. Theo latches onto his pulse point, sucking _hard_ , before pushing his thumbnail into the slit in a way that makes Liam forget how to _breathe_ as he cries out, hips jerking frantically, mind going blank with the exception of sheer _sensation,_ Theo's breath against his neck, his heated skin against Liam's own, the sparks of pleasure-pain bursting in front of his eyes and making it hard for him to catch his breath.

" _No,"_ Liam finally manages to answer, breathier than he would like, seeking out Theo's mouth just to feel the pressure of lips against his own, just to feel Theo's tongue stroking along the roof of his mouth and trying to smother Liam's helpless moans. He pulls back to catch his breath. "Don't you fucking _dare."_

\---

There's no _way_ Liam had the mental capacity to pull his keys out and unlock the front door, but somehow, they're inside. They're inside and Theo's saying, "Okay, _now_ this can't happen ever again, we can't--" and then Liam's grabbing at his shoulders and licking a line up his distracting neck and biting at his lips again and Theo's hands are tangled in his hair and he's kissing _back_ and now, somehow, Theo's bent over the coffee table, and Liam has his hands on the small of his back, and he's just . . . Staring.

There's come trickling out of Theo's hole, which is _obscene._ It's _Liam's_ come, which makes something hot rise up inside him, makes him lick his lips and wonder how filthy it would be to eat Theo out until he _cries_ , just like this, pinned to the coffee table in their living room while Liam pushes in with his tongue, laving his tongue around the puffy rim until he _screams._

He wonders what Theo tastes like, inside. He wonders what Liam _in_ Theo tastes like. It's probably a werewolf thing, because it would be terrifying if it wasn't, but it still makes Liam's dick ache and brings the fangs back out. At some level he can recognize that when he's this far gone, what he wants and what the wolf wants are one and the same, and when he's less cum-dumb and not so turned on he can't think straight, it'll probably freak him out how badly he wants to sink his teeth into the pulse point fluttering at Theo's neck and rub his scent over every inch of Theo's body.

He jerks, at the sudden visual of covering Theo's flushed skin in his come. Objectively, that's _disgusting_ , and _alarmingly_ possessive, an intrusive thought if Liam's ever had one. _Subjectively_ , Liam doesn't have a single drop of blood left in his brain, all of it rushing south, and he wants it so bad that he feels light-headed. Liam coating the tops of his thighs; the small of his back; his pretty, flushed chest. Spilling across Theo's face, screwed tight in pleasure, eyelashes fluttering shut.

Liam groans, gripping the base of his cock tightly.

"Anytime, now," Theo goads, arching his back _further_ , because he is, at his core, a _bastard_ , but his hole is so red and raw and _visibly used_ that it makes Liam's mouth run dry and he can't spare too many thoughts for how _fucking_ annoying Theo is, because he's pressing his thumb to the rim and watching it flutter, _greedy_ , like it's trying to suck Liam's finger inside, and Liam has worked off enough of the adrenaline to keep the claws in by now, Liam can _touch._ Can feel Theo's go hot and shivery against his finger tips. "I _swear,_ Liam," Theo snaps, irritated, "if you don't—"

Liam slides two fingers in, and the rest of his snarky retort escapes his mouth in a punched-out exhale.

"More," Theo demands, voice raspy, and Liam sinks his fangs into the plush muscle of Theo's ass, as a reprimand, kind of, but also because he's been thinking about it for _months_. Thinking about things like chasing him through the woods and pinning him down by the wrists and fucking him so hard that his eyes roll all the way back in his pretty little head and he's too fucked-stupid and filled with Liam's come to say infuriatingly revealing things that cut Liam to the core and make him do horrible things like self-reflect. His teeth in Theo's ass is not the punishment he thought it would be, considering how it makes Theo clamp down on his fingers, start rolling his hips back to bare down on them, to get them _deeper inside_ , and Liam feels hot all over, feels almost _feverish_ with how hot his blood is running right now.

Before long, he's lining himself up again, palms braced on Theo's slim hips, and when he slides in, it's about the same as last time — hot and wet and Liam still needs to blink the spots out of his eyes and grit his teeth at the feeling of Theo clenching down around him, but he slides into him so _easily_ and the sound it makes when he fucks into him — the _obscenely_ wet squelch of him pushing inside, the strangled cry that's drawn from Theo's throat, the sound of his _own_ that he tries to bite back, the _screech_ of the coffee table legs sliding a couple inches with the force of his thrust, all only serve to make him _harder._

"Who _knew,"_ Liam grits out, just as he _slams_ back inside, and they _both_ cry out, "that you— _ah_ — _take_ it so _well."_

His thumbs fit perfectly into the dimples at the small of Theo's back, like they were _made_ for him — made for him to haul Theo in by the hips and fuck into him as hard as can, hitting the spot deep inside him that makes him writhe and _whine_ , filling him up the way he _needs_.

"Fuck _you,"_ Theo spits, but his hands are scrabbling for purchase on the coffee table and he just fucks himself back _harder_ and the way his back muscles flex makes Liam's tongue go thick and useless in his mouth. The entire picture of it, really, Theo sweaty and writhing below him, slick and hot around him, and Liam can _see_ where he's pushing into him, _see_ how well Theo's taking him, can _watch_ his length disappear into Theo's fluttering hole, and _fuck, maybe_ at some point, Liam had the brainpower to string more than two words together and form a semi-coherent thought, but Liam's throat is dry and his brain is leaking out of his ears with every punishing thrust.

There's sweat pooling into the divots of Liam's body and into his eyes. Liam hasn't gotten a good night's sleep in a _week._ They were just _barely_ treated for their wounds an hour or two ago, but the idea of taking it easy with the bullet wound in his shoulder and just going to sleep, or something, instead of yanking the hair at the back of Theo's head -- and plastering his chest along Theo's sweaty back and biting at the vulnerable curve of Theo's neck and thrusting into him _hard_ , rolling his hips and rubbing into him so right that they _both_ see stars, as the coffee table gives an ominous _creak_ \-- is almost _unfathomable._

\---

Liam wakes up alone, which is pretty much what he expected, and _good_ , because Liam has never actually had an awkward morning-after talk before and he doesn’t really want to have his first with his kind-of enemy turned maybe ride-or-die ally.

It takes far too long to gather himself, to stretch his sore muscles out an actually catalogue the state of his body. Every single muscle is aching and he can’t tell if it’s because of the crazy shit that went down at the hospital or . . . What came after.

On that note, it also takes him too long to realize that he woke up with something in his hand.

Theo’s shredded black briefs, deliberately tangled in his fingers. He can smell the precome on them from here and mentally awards himself many points for not leaning in to scent them like he wants to.

He stares at the briefs for a long time. And then if he ends up tossing them in the bottom drawer of his nightstand instead of the trash can, then that’s no ones business but his.

\---

He feels kind of gross, but too hungry to shower first, so he sets off for some food, only to completely regret not having the presence of mind to stretch his senses out first.

His mom is in the kitchen, flipping a pancake. Sitting on a stool next to the kitchen counter is one Theo Raeken, coffee cup in hand. Theo shoots him an _infuriatingly_ smug look over the rim, and then takes a long, slow swig, exposing the line of his throat.

A truly befuddling mix of angry arousal and vague frustration floods Liam's stomach. There's just the hint of a hickey at the base of Theo's throat, where Liam had _bit down_. It hasn't healed yet. Liam wants to punch the stupid smirk off of Theo's face, but also suck on the skin of his neck until the mark is _permanent._

Being a werewolf is hard, and so is Liam, unfortunately. He adjusts himself in his sweatpants, pulling his shirt down lower, before he makes it to the foot of the stairs.

"Hey, sweetie," his Mom calls out over her back, without even turning around. "We just got back an hour ago. You sleep well?"

"Yeah," Liam replies absently, too distracted trying to scent what she's cooking, and Theo's smirk widens.

"You enjoy the gift?" Theo asks, under his breath, and Liam scowls.

"You're disgusting," he replies, because he doesn't want to say _yes,_ which is one truth, so he settles for another. Liam can still _smell_ himself all over Theo, which means he didn't shower. At least that's what Liam _assumes_ , until he realizes that he doesn't smell like _come_ or _sweat_ , he _just_ smells like _Liam._ Clean, but. Like Liam.

"You sure?" Theo shoots back, eyes sparkling, and then, whispered even lower, slow and sultry: " _Your eyes are flared."_

Panicked, Liam scrambles over the kitchen counter to check his reflection in the microwave, only to be assaulted by Theo's quiet laughter and the fact that his eyes are actually their regular human blue.

He scowls some more, and that's when his Mom finally turns around to pass him his own cup of coffee. She frowns.

"Is there a _reason_ you're on top of the counter?"

Liam doesn't have an answer, so he settles for silence, which means he can hear perfectly well when Theo starts snickering.

Liam shoots him another dirty look when he finally _realizes_ why Theo smells so much like him.

"Are those my _clothes?"_ he asks, incredulous, and Theo returns the question with a nonplussed look.

"You _tore mine off,"_ Theo replies, like it's _Liam's_ fault. It's _not_ Liam's fault. Anyone else would've done the same in his situation, obviously. Liam doesn't say any of that out loud. Instead, Theo takes another sip and Liam stares, watching his throat work some more.

And then, he remembers Theo's _gift_ , and he tries to put the fact out of his mind that his fingers smell like _Theo_ , because then he'll start doing something inadvisable like _blushing_ and Theo would actually bully him to death while his Mom would get curious enough to _ask_ , so instead, he settles on: " _Please_ don’t tell you borrowed some of my boxers too."

"You know what, it would serve you right," Theo says airily, and then, apparently _waits_ for Liam to take a sip of his own coffee before hissing, under his breath: "You left _teeth marks_ on my ass."

Liam chokes so violently on his coffee that it spills out of his _nose_ , pouring like a river, and just because the burn marks in his nasal passages _heal,_ doesn't mean they're _pleasant._

"Jesus, are you _alright?"_ his Mom asks, visibly concerned, patting him on the back while he coughs, and reaching for the roll of tissues to wipe up the small puddle of coffee on the counter. "What happened?"

"M'good," Liam lies, giving her a weak smile. "Just went down the wrong pipe."

She still looks fairly skeptical, but turns around to pour him a glass of water, giving just enough time for Liam to hiss, "What is _wrong_ with you?"

"Shouldn't you be familiar with that by now?" Theo replies, unbothered, before quickly downing the rest of his coffee. "Don't worry," he sighs, after swallowing, "I didn't borrow any boxers."

Liam tries to scowl _again_ , but then he actually _registers_ the implication of _that,_ and his breathing is interrupted by _another_ spontaneous coughing fit, prompted by the rest of the coffee trying to expunge itself from Liam's lungs and also most of Liam's blood rushing south, and Theo _laughs_ like the demon he is. He's just lucky that his Mom is turned away, searching for her special tea, so if he actually _does_ end up punching Theo, he'll be healed before Liam can get in trouble for it.

"Oh, _fuck--"_ he manages, in between painful wheezes, "-- _you."_

Quick as a flash, Theo is right next to him, palm hot and heavy on Liam's thigh, sliding up the inseam of his sweatpants until it's resting right between Liam's legs, grip light and teasing as he strokes Liam through his pants, _smelling_ like he's _Liam's_ , lips pressed right to Liam's ear as he whispers, voice low and silky: "Oh, but you'd _like_ to, _wouldn't you?"_

And then, just as quick, he's almost to the front door with an irritatingly charming, "Bye, Jenna! Thanks for breakfast!"

She turns around from the cabinet she's been rooting through. "See you later, Theo! Don't be a stranger!" she replies cheerily, and Liam doesn't know _what_ they talked about before he got there, but she had _never_ warmed up to one of his _actual_ friends that quickly.

It takes Liam a couple seconds to figure out how to breathe again without choking on his tongue, and then another few to make sure that his knees won't buckle when he takes a step forward.

It's fairly difficult to chase after someone while maintaining an erection, but somehow, Liam manages.

"Hey, _asshole!"_ he calls out, just as Theo's getting into his truck, and Theo barely even graces him with a glance. "I'm _serious,_ this isn't happening again."

Theo rolls his eyes, shutting the driver side door behind him. " _Obviously,"_ he repeats, the same way he did last night, but _now_ , in the light of day, with Liam having a couple extra braincells to rub together, he tries to actually pick that apart.

"' _Obviously?'"_ Liam echoes, vaguely offended, even if he can't figure out why yet. "Why ' _obviously'_?"

Theo snorts. "What do you care? That's _literally_ what you asked for." He sneers. "What do you want me to do, beg for you to be my _boyfriend_ , or something?"

" _Boyfriend?"_ Liam echoes, louder and more harassed, but mostly because of the _tone_ that Theo's saying it in, like it would be _unfathomable_ for Liam to be his boyfriend. Liam scowls. "Well," he says, or like, yells, whatever. "I don't _want_ you to be my _boyfriend_! You're—" he scrambles to find the word, "—a _dick!"_

"You like my dick," Theo shoots back, unimpressed.

" _Asshole!"_

"That too," Theo replies, and then narrows his eyes. "You're short," he says bluntly. "And your hair is ridiculous."

Liam gapes, almost _outrageously_ offended. "You—" he manages, mouth flapping with just how fucking _mad_ he is, "—you _fucking take that back!"_

"Okay," Theo replies slowly, _indulgently_. "Liam, your hair looks really good right now."

And _then_ , his heart almost _deliberately_ skips a beat.

Liam can't stop the outraged noise from escaping from his throat, probably the same way that Theo can't stop the violence-inducing grin from spreading across his face. Theo has a nice smile, Liam notices, almost absently, but he's _storming_ back into the house, _furious_ , because as much as he wants to wring Theo's neck with his bare hands, his Mom would _definitely_ notice if he got into a fistfight in the front yard.

He slams the door shut behind him, and grabs his lukewarm cup of coffee from off the counter, gulping it aggressively as he watches Theo turn on his truck through the window.

"What a nice boy," his Mom remarks, eyes fixed on her phone as she sips at her tea. "I like him."

Liam watches Theo finally pulls out of their driveway, window rolled-down, Theo's hand flipping him off the entire time he drives away.

". . . Liam, did you break the coffee table? _Oh my god,_ are these _claw marks?"_

The coffee cup cracks ominously in Liam's hands.

**Author's Note:**

> SO!!! I wrote them snarky!!!! not ONE "sweetheart". Are y'all proud of me? I passed the "lightning doesn't use the endearment sweetheart, or make use of forehead kisses, or make them Yearn to Death before they can finally touch each other" challenge. I am subverting my own tropes. Unfortunately, Liam is still hyperfixated on Theo's thighs and there'll probably be some morey + theo threesome jokes snuck in there, but alas, I can only change so much before I become someone else entirely :D
> 
> i'm really excited for this one! please do tell me what you thought about it
> 
> Tell me what you liked, what you didn't!! As always, all feedback is welcomed and highly appreciated :)  
> If you want to come scream at me on tumblr, feel free to find me at [inabottlelikelightning](https://www.inabottlelikelightning.tumblr.com/)


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